Is Rachel a Muggle?
by Kyliee.Choi.rocks
Summary: Rachel Tran is a half-blood, but she worries that she's not a witch, like her mom and her older sister. Can she be...a Muggle? Rated T just in case.
1. Prologue

Rachel had black hair with green streaks, and cartoonish bangs that swept to the side. She had tan skin and she was really tall. She always wore a navy blue hoodie with dark, ripped jeans. She had big, cyan- colored eyes. It was hard to ignore her.

Rachel went to the grocery store one day to get milk. When she got to the automatic doors, she stuffed her hands into the large pocket in the front and went down the dairy aisle.

Rachel passed the cheese, yogurt, ice cream…

Thud.

She had been staring at the certain brand of milk her mother had wanted, and it had fallen to the floor.

"Hey!" called a store employee from the snack aisle. "You better pay for that!"

He rushed over, wearing a blue Tremain's grocery apron.

"I'll clean that up, but pay for the milk."

She paid the guy a couple bucks and picked up a new milk carton. Then she headed for the check- out counter.

She was running low on the green stuff, so she used her parents' credit card and left, frowning.

Strange things like that always happened to her. Before, she had bent a very sturdy golf club, melted a golf ball, and stopped the windmill in mini golf.

Rachel swept her bangs out of her cyan eyes and looked at a guy lovingly.Rodrick looked extremely handsome. His hair fell just a little below his neck, and his skin was just about the same shade as Rachel's. He was half-goth.

Rodrick didn't know Rachel existed. Rachel sighed and shyly walked to her car, where her mom was waiting.

"Did you get the Organic Fresh brand?" demanded Rachel's mom immediately. She grabbed the carton and saw with relief that the orange circle of Organic Fresh was stamped on the carton. "Good." She turned on the ignition and reversed out of the parking space.

As Rachel's mother drove into the bank parking lot to make some deposits, Rachel asked, "Mama, when am I getting my Hogwarts letter-?"

"Now Rachel, stop asking." Rachel's mother stopped the car. "You musn't rush yourself. Don't expect it for another good year."

"But Mama, Jeni got her Hogwarts letter already. It's not fair!" Jeni was Rachel's twelve-year-old sister.

"She's older, and we don't know if you might be on Daddy's side of the family." Rachel and Jeni were half-blood, because their mother had been a witch but her father had been a Muggle.

"Mama, don't bring that up." Rachel tugged on her mother's sleeve as she departed from the car.

"Come with me, Rachel." Rachel's mother went into the bank.

Rachel slumped into the bank, where all of the bank ladies said she was cute. She couldn't stand five minutes, so she slumped back out of the bank and sat in the car until her mother came out.

"Why did you leave, honey?"

"No reason," Rachel said casually. She ran her fingers through her hair and looked out her window.

She saw the post office and thought about letters, which made her think about Hogwarts. She wondered, "Could I really be a… Muggle?"

As she got to her room, she pulled off her hoodie. The sunlight streamed through the window. Even today, it was too hot for her to wear a hoodie. After all, she lived in America, so she didn't have much of a chance of going to Hogwarts.

"I might go to the Sacramento Academy of Magic," mumbled Rachel. She looked at the picture of her sister and herself on Jeni's first day of Hogwarts. Then she glanced at the clock.

Just then, Rachel's mother came in with a large basket of washed laundry. "Put away your laundry, dear." Rachel's mom smiled at Rachel, who rolled her eyes and tossed her hair.

"Dear," began Rachel's mother hesitantly, sitting down beside Rachel on her bed. "Wouldn't it be time to let your highlights…um…" Rachel's mother hesitated for a minute. "Wear…off?"

"No!" Rachel shouted.

Rachel's mother's face suddenly became stern. "Okay then. But just so you know, for shouting, grounding for a week." Rachel's mother shut the door.

Rachel was angrier than ever. She was fuming. She kicked the desk and sat back donw on her bed, thinking about Hogwarts again.


	2. Report Card Trouble

Rachel had one cheek pressed to the cool desk after a hot day.

"And that is how you multiply fractions. Simple." The teacher put down her pointer and looked around. "Now you can start your papers. Begin."

Amy Lang's pencil started flying across her paper, but Rachel's pencils lay still.

The teacher noticed Rachel putting her head down and walked over.

"Rachel Tran, come here." Rachel reluctantly walked over to the teacher, who was considerably old.

"I notice that you have been falling behind." The teacher rifled through a sheaf of papers and found the paper for _Tran, Rachel_. "Here it is." She pulled it out and straightened it. "February report." She looked pointedly at Rachel over her glasses and read: "Rachel Tran: Shows little progress in her studies. Is a C average student. Shows no respect for others." Mrs. Meillery shoved the paper back in the pile and put it carefully into the drawer. "That's not good, is it?"

Rachel was looking out the tall and wide glass window on the west wall. She longed to be practicing hopscotch with the first graders, anything out of this situation.

"Rachel? Are you listening?" asked Mrs. Meillery.

"Yes," said Rachel vaguely.

"Is that a good report?"

"No."

"Exactly. Please show at least a bit of ambition in your studies." Mrs. Meillery waved her off. "You may go."

Rachel picked up her pencil and worked slowly, and she was still on problem three when it was time for lunch.

Rachel's mother spent Wednesdays shopping, so on Wednesdays Rachel was expected to make her own lunch or buy it. Rachel thought jealously of Jeni, who got to eat banquets in the Great Hall for every meal. They had lived in England before coming to America, so Jeni was Apparated home by a teacher every single year.

Today's lunch was chicken burgers. Rachel half-heartedly nibbled her lunch and stared around.

It was the beginning of March. Lots of kids were talking to their best friends, but Rachel was a loner. She had a bad reputation because she mostly wore black and she didn't look appealing to kids, except for her unusual cyan eyes, green streaks, and was freaking tall. Most girls thought she was beautiful, but Rachel didn't wear clothes to match. She didn't care what colors she wore. She just didn't want to be naked. She wore her older brother's old clothes. Max was in a Muggle college right now. He went to Stanford.

It was time for report cards at the end of March, and Rachel was in deep trouble.

"Eight straight C's again!" her mother was shouting, in a voice that was sure to carry to Wisconsin. "Rachel Tran! What am I going to do with you?!"

"I don't know," said Rachel softly.

"I'll tell you. I'll take away your cell phone. That'll…"

"No!" shouted Rachel before her mother could continue. "I need that!"

"Too bad. This is a consequence." Rachel's mother held out a hand. "Hand it over."

Rachel handed over the phone miserably.

"For three months." Rachel's mother pocketed the phone and stormed from the room, fuming.

Rachel felt exactly the same way as her mother, emotionally. As in, she was also mad and fuming. Not as in the same thoughts. Why was her mother treating her so unfairly? Why was she even going to school? What was the purpose of life? To have kids? Why should she live when she might be a Muggle?

The thoughts swam around her head as she wished that she could paint her room black or listen to Miley Cyrus or do something else cool, just as long as she could get away from her wretched mother, who seemed just like her teacher. Her teacher had a terrible temper, and so did her so-called mother. It just wasn't fair. Why did she have to do something she didn't want to do?

In the distance, she heard an electric guitar playing loudly. "Probably Rodrick's band," thought Rachel miserably. She still liked Rodrick, even though he didn't know Rachel existed.

Rachel thought about all of this when someone knocked at her bedroom door.

"_What_?!" asked Rachel irritably.

"It's me…" a male voice called.

"Who?" demanded Rachel, who was beginning to become seriously mad at the person who was standing at her door.

"Here's a hint. I…"

"_JUST FREAKIN' TELL ME WHO YOU ARE_!"

"It's me, Max."

Rachel was still mad. The coming of Max didn't change her feelings one bit.

"Don't come in."

Max came in anyway.

"I told you not…"

"Freakin' shut up…" Max interrupted, imitating Rachel's voice in a stupid way under his breath.

"What did you say?!" Rachel demanded angrily, raising her pillow threatingly.

Rachel chased Max around her room all afternoon.


End file.
